


Put Your Hands On Mine

by patientalien



Category: Clone - Fandom, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Bromance where they don't actually talk, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-14
Updated: 2016-12-14
Packaged: 2018-09-08 14:26:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8848537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patientalien/pseuds/patientalien
Summary: Written by thishereanakinguy for the JediFest '16 exchange. Anakin and Obi-Wan find themselves in a difficult situation when Anakin is injured. As usual, they have a chance to communicate. As usual, it's easier said than done.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Stay Alive off the Hamilton soundtrack. 
> 
> Thank you so much to bananasareforparties for their amazing beta work! Any issues are entirely mine.

Mortar shells hail down and Anakin grabs the back of Obi-Wan's tunic dragging him down into the mud. He's not the type to hide while his men fight, but he'd called the clones back several minutes before the bombing runs started. It's him and Obi-Wan left out here for the time being. He holds Obi-Wan's head down, his larger body nearly on top of his former Master's. It's without conscious thought, really, because of course he needs to protect Obi-Wan.

"Mmph!" Obi-Wan protests from underneath him, but Anakin keeps his hand on the back of Obi-Wan's head, closing his eyes and reaching out with the Force to try and protect them both from the flying debris. It works, nominally, though he is pelted with duracrete shards that penetrate his shields. _Just another few minutes_ , he thinks. Another few minutes and the wave will have passed them.

"Stay still!" he shouts into Obi-Wan's ear, face pressed into his neck. The vulture fighters whine overhead. Anakin counts four, five, six, ten separate engine noises, circling their location. His ears are ringing from the explosion and his head's throbbing from the effort it is taking to keep up his Force shielding. He's never done anything QUITE like this before. It's taxing beyond measure, but he can't stop now, not until....

The roar of the fighters starts to lessen, to fade into the distance, and the ground stops quaking. He waits a moment, two, three, then he rises to his knees, assessing the situation. Beside him, Obi-Wan pushes himself upright. "Anakin—" he begins, but can't continue because a Separatist heavy tank crunches its way towards them over the bombed-out homes and bodies of the civilians who'd been caught in the crossfire.

Anakin acts without conscious thought, flinging Obi-Wan behind him as he springs to his feet, holding out his hands as the tank cannon takes aim.

Fires.

Pain and pain and pain. The Force tells him that Obi-Wan is safe, is fine, is coming towards him, but he can't quite speak. There's a roaring in his head. He's lost control of his mechno arm and the pain radiating from the other, living arm, is nauseating. The gray sky is growing darker and darker, but it isn't until he sees Obi-Wan's face hovering over him that he allows himself to close his eyes and let himself slip away on waves of agony.

\-----

The air around Anakin is throbbing, pulsing, and crushing him with each beat of his heart. With a great, rushing breath, he opens his eyes and moans as the sky spins above him in a dizzying array of colors.

"Don't move just yet," says a voice to his right. Or he thinks it's to his right. "Stay still, Anakin."

Anakin coughs, tasting copper, and feels warmth splash onto his lips.

"Not my best idea," he manages to rasp out, aware now of the white-hot pain radiating up his left arm, pulsing down what's left of his right. Despite Obi-Wan's hand on his shoulder, despite the dizzying pain and the crushing agony of the air, he raises his hands so they're within his line of sight. His right is a hulk of melted, mangled durasteel, and the left...he sucks in a deep, choking breath.

"Anakin, Anakin," Obi-Wan hushes, running a hand over Anakin's bloodied brow. He closes his eyes again and lets the pain take him once more.

\-----

Obi-Wan knows that Anakin needs immediate medical attention. Anyone with eyes would be able to figure that out, but their comms are jammed and none of their troops are responding. The sense that help is so close and yet unattainable is frustrating. Still, he knows he needs to trust in the Force. Or so he tells himself.

The only thing he can think to do is get them back to their own line, back to the medical tent and Kix and Coric. Below him Anakin moans. "Hush," Obi-Wan says softly. He takes a breath. "Anakin, we need to get going."

There's no way he can expect Anakin to walk. While the Force might be able to buffer some of the pain, he has lost blood, and the use of his hands, at least for the time being. He's also gone into shock. Obi-Wan is not a good enough healer to tell if there is any internal bleeding, but, judging by the size of the blast, he would be surprised if there wasn't. There's only one solution.

"This may hurt a bit," he warns before sliding his arms under his friend's body and lifting him over both shoulders. Anakin barks out a pained curse, moans against Obi-Wan's back as Obi-Wan stands, making slow steps back towards their camp.

\-----

Anakin is much heavier than he looks: all long limbs and lean muscle. He's not easy cargo and despite calling on the Force for help, Obi-Wan is tiring. It's not far to the camp, at least he doesn't think so. He can sense the Clones like a distant buzzing in his head. Or maybe that's Anakin, projecting. Either way, he needs to rest.

Obi-Wan lowers Anakin onto the ground as carefully as he can. As far as Obi-Wan can tell, they're more than halfway back to their camp. The ground is hard-packed and may have once been a road, but now is pockmarked with craters and strewn with rubble. The silence makes his ears ring: not even local wildlife has survived.

"Not much further," he says.

"Okay," Anakin replies. He tries to sit up, gags, and lies back down, his hands cradled against his chest like a Youngling. "Master?"

Obi-Wan shakes his head at the tone. "Let me clean your wounds."

He should have done that first thing, but perhaps Anakin isn't the only one in shock. Anakin grunts in response. Obi-Wan crouches beside him, tearing off a piece of his clean inner tunic and soaks it in water from his canteen.

"This may hurt a bit," he repeats as he lifts Anakin's hand from his chest.

Anakin wails, a sound unlike any Obi-Wan has ever heard, and it nearly makes him drop the offending limb.

"I'm sorry," he says softly. "I'm sorry you're hurt, Anakin, just let me clean it up a little." It's hard to tell what to clean. Bone, muscle, and cartilage are all visible through the mangled flesh.

"It's okay," Anakin gasps through clenched teeth. "Needed to keep you safe, that's all."

With a sigh, Obi-Wan carefully does his best to do what he can with the hand and then slips open Anakin's tunic to assess further damage. "You know that's not—"

"The Jedi way, I know," Anakin snaps with a harsh cough as Obi-Wan brushes his fingers over the deep, mottled bruising on his chest. "I don't care."

Of course he doesn't, Obi-Wan thinks. Of course. Anakin cares so deeply about everyone but himself. Or at least about his own physical safety. Exasperated, he says, "Anakin."

"I don't wanna hear it," Anakin responds. "I know you don't approve. I know you wouldn't do the same for me if it endangered the mission. I get it. I don't care."

His words are slurring, eyelids growing heavy as his body tries again to pull him into unconsciousness.

As Obi-Wan starts to say, "Of course I would do the same for you," Anakin is out cold.

\----

By the time Obi-Wan staggers into the bounds of their camp with precious cargo in tow, the fighting has stopped. They are met by Captain Rex who hurriedly takes over the task of carrying his General. Relieved of his burden, Obi-Wan calls for Kix and a medivac back to the Resolute.

Kix keeps him out of the med tent for a while, but finally emerges, blood splattered across his armor. Obi-Wan tries not think about the fact it's Anakin's blood.

"Did what I could for now, but he'll be in bacta a while once we're evac'd," Kix says. "Got everything all bandaged up and gave him some painkillers. He's awake. Wanted to know if you were okay."

Obi-Wan resists the urge to roll his eyes.

"I'll go assure him that I am," he says, clapping Kix on the shoulder. "Thank you."

The med tent is dimly lit to allow for rest and recovery now that the immediate danger has passed. Nonetheless, it's easy to find Anakin's cot.

"Hey," Anakin says, waving the stump of his right arm. Kix must have removed the mechno. "Gonna be good as new, Kix says. Won't even need a matching glove or anything."

It's good news, at least. While Anakin had adjusted well to his first prosthetic, Obi-Wan would rather he not have to adjust to another.

"Good. Anakin..." He wants to finish what he'd tried to say earlier, wants to assure Anakin that he does mean more to him than... it's hard to even think it, to consider the certain attachment. But Anakin needs to hear it. He needs to know.

"It's okay, Master," Anakin says, closing his eyes. "I'm glad you're okay."

He's asleep before Obi-Wan can echo the sentiment.

Maybe another day.


End file.
